Her Alpha Lover: A Draken and Charli Boxed Set by Amanda Richensexi Page A

see people in business suits waiting just a few feet away.
    "No," she whispered, clearing her throat.
    "Right. And is—" he broke off, his face going a little pink, and then chuckled and shook his head. "He warned me, but this is pretty wild. I'm supposed to ask you if your clitoris is hard and wet."
    Damn that man to hell and back. It is now, you bastard.
    Charli swallowed and said, "Yes," in a strangled voice.
    "So you, er, haven't had an orgasm since you saw Mr. Almatto last on the Friday prior to Labor Day?"
    No words were currently possible. Charli shook her head.
    "Whew. I guess you're here to entertain for somebody's birthday or something?" the attendant said, grinning slyly.
    She shook her head again. "I—I can't—I'm not a—it's complicated."
    How to tell this man that several days ago, in the midst of an awkward business presentation, she'd been persuaded to put herself on shockingly lurid display for Draken Almatto and his all-male staff? That she'd ended up being fucked by the man across his conference table afterwards? And that this meeting was supposed to be the long-anticipated follow-up?
    How to explain that these kinds of appointments were all she'd been offered by the iconoclastic young billionaire with eclectic sexual tastes who'd sworn he'd never have her as a girlfriend, even though he'd been stalking her on the Internet for over a year?
    That she wasn't always a slut? That she normally didn't do wild monkey sex? That this was a first? That she liked to bake zucchini bread to relax and hadn't had a boyfriend in two years? That Draken Almatto had turned out to be so hot, so lethal, so devastating that she'd thrown her normal life code out the window and now she was turning into a sex junkie?
    How to explain that life would be much easier if she were just a stripper?
    Well, she could , but...
    Nope. Maybe not.
    "Hokay. Well, mum's the word. I'll tell him what you said. Hold on." Charli was appalled to see him bring a phone to his ear. She looked over her shoulder and saw several people watching curiously as they waited in line. Oh, God, could they hear? She knew the curved metal sculptures on the floor and walls were designed to carry sound across the acoustically-enhanced entrance lobby in unpredictable ways. Whoever had furnished this lobby had a sense of humor.
    "Draken," the man said. "Ben Vaughn here down in the lobby. Ms. Fontina just verified that she's not wearing panties, that her, er, pussy is wet and that she hasn't had an orgasm since—since you saw him last, was it?" He glanced up at her inquiringly.
    She nodded, her breath starting to come in quick pants.
    "Yeah. Yeah, she did. She looks cute as hell. Yes, big glasses. Very excited when I asked about her clit. Yeah, they are, as a matter of fact." He was eying, Charli saw, the two bumps of her nipples clearly outlined on the bodice of her dress. "Okay, I'll tell her. No problem." He put the phone down and smiled widely. "Ms. Fontina, you're free to go up. They're waiting for you. The elevators are over toward the Hammond Street entrance. Do you know the way?"
    "Yes," she gritted. I will surely kill that man. First I will let him do whatever he wants with my body. After that, murder.
    "Have a great time," he called warmly.
    She started to storm off, then hesitated. "Sir, aren't you—I mean, aren't you bothered? Annoyed or I don't know, shocked that he made you ask me those things?"
    "By Draken? Shocked by Draken?" The clerk laughed. "After four years, I don't think I'll ever be shocked by anything he does, Ms. Fontina." He smiled. "You do blush a lot, don't you? He said you did."
    And that was her cue to stomp away. Waiting for the elevator, she fixedly watched the indicator lights, her heart pounding in her ribcage as she envisioned what it was going to be like to see Draken again today. All week she'd been thinking about this moment. The things Draken had done had had her drooling between her legs. The things she'd done. Would it be the